


bruises on my skin, for you

by kinneyb



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Choking, M/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Geralt asks Jaskier to choke him. Jaskier decides he wants to try it, too.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 575





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there's going to be 2 chaps - the first is jaskier choking geralt, second is geralt choking jaskier  
> why? bc i really fucking love choking and tbh i dont write enough smut so i needed the practice
> 
> follow me on twitter @ queermight

Geralt and Jaskier had sex… _a lot._ It had started one night, unexpectedly - it was cold and Geralt had grunted for Jaskier to “get the fuck over here” because his teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. Jaskier had felt stupid at first, tensely leaning against the hard line of Geralt’s body.

Until, slowly, Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders.

Jaskier had assumed he was just trying to keep him warm, and it was working. Warm and tired, he leaned more heavily against Geralt. That’s when Geralt’s hand started stroking up and down his arm.

He closed his eyes, mewling contentedly. Geralt stiffened at the sound.

“Wh - ” Jaskier asked, nearly whining. He opened his eyes and peered up at Geralt, realizing just then that their faces were mere inches apart. Geralt’s breath was hitting his face, surprisingly pleasant. “Geralt?” he asked, quiet, scared of breaking the moment.

Geralt grunted before he leaned down, quick, and kissed him, a little hard, teeth clashing together. Jaskier was surprised for a total of two seconds before he started to kiss back.

After that it was a habit for them to sleep together in all senses of the word; they cuddled together at night for warmth and most nights they found themselves doing more than just that, too.

Jaskier didn’t know what was going on, but he liked every second of it.

The sex was, predictably, good - Jaskier had had lots of sex in his life, mostly with women but a few men, too, but sex with Geralt was different. For one, he had stupidly good stamina and could go for hours. Jaskier, however, could not and sometimes they bickered over it.

Secondly, Geralt was surprisingly… thoughtful of his bed partner.

He always made sure Jaskier got off, usually first, and sometimes even spoiled him. There had been nights where Geralt ignored his own cock, hard and leaking, just to spend hours spoiling Jaskier.

He wondered briefly if things had been that way for him and Yennefer, too, before almost retching and deciding he would never think of that again.

Point being, when Jaskier asked for something, he always got it. Geralt was a generous partner. Geralt, however, never asked for anything.

Jaskier offered and he accepted. Like blowjobs, handjobs. Actual sex happened less often but Jaskier understood why; they needed oils for that or neither of them would enjoy it, and considering Geralt always bitched about traveling light, they went through any oils he got quickly.

And towns were also few and far between, which made replenishing difficult.

Things changed, however, one night when Geralt pulled back, Jaskier whining at the loss of contact between them. He opened his eyes and stared at Geralt, his dark, half-lidded eyes and swollen, well-kissed lips.

Jaskier swallowed. “Wh - what is it?” he asked once he could find words again.

Geralt looked into his eyes and stared. Jaskier was just starting to feel uncomfortable when he answered, gruff as ever. “Jaskier, do you have… any hard limits?”

“What?” he replied quickly.

Geralt grunted, looking away. “Is there anything you won’t do in bed?”

Jaskier blinked twice. That was… an interesting and unexpected question, also just a little scary. “Um. Well, I don’t know. I’m pretty experimental,” he said lightly. Geralt didn’t react and he grew worried, continuing. “I - I mean… nothing weird. Like, um. You know. Pe - pee or anything,” he cringed. “Or, like, pain. Normal stuff.”

Geralt nodded, slow and pondering. Jaskier nudged him with his foot.

“Hey,” he said. “What are you thinking about?”

Geralt finally looked at him. “What do you mean _pain_?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered honestly. He’d never really thought about it. “Like, blood or stuff? I don’t know!” he huffed. “I’ve met some wild folks in my days, Geralt. But I assure you - ” reaching up, he cupped Geralt’s face “ - I’d probably be fine with whatever you want.”

Geralt swallowed, licking his lips. “It wouldn’t be painful,” he said slowly, “for you.”

Jaskier definitely wasn’t expecting that. He nodded, lightly brushing a thumb across Geralt’s cheek. “Okay. Um, okay, even better,” he assured him. “Well, I mean, I’m very weak, so, like, keep that in mind, but. Yeah.” He smiled a bit. “Ask away.”

“You don’t need to be very strong,” he said simply.

Jaskier shrugged, smiling bigger. “Okay, good. Now stop putting it off and use - ” he leaned forward and kissed the corner of Geralt’s mouth “ - your words.”

“Okay,” Geralt breathed airily. “Jaskier, will you choke me?”

Jaskier blinked, slowly absorbing the words. His fingers twitched against Geralt’s cheeks. “You - you mean - ”

“I mean,” Geralt said, and there was just a hint of humor, “I want you to wrap your hands around my throat and squeeze.”

Jaskier knew about choking as a kink, fundamentally, at least, but he’d never tried it himself. It wasn’t a completely bad idea, even, but he’d never trusted a person enough to try it. And none of his other bed partners had ever requested he do it.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” he asked, the words spilling out naturally, needing to know.

Geralt hmmed, eyes dropping to Jaskier’s lips as if distracted. “For humans, maybe, and only if done irresponsibly. I’d be fine,” he looked back up into Jaskier’s wide eyes, “even if you messed up a little.”

“I - right,” he said with a bit of a laugh. “Um. I’ve - I’ve done it before, though.”

Geralt stared at him steadily. “I assumed as much.”

“But you still trust me to do it?” he asked, feeling weirdly… _giddy_.

Geralt shrugged. “I told you, you wouldn’t be able to hurt me, anyway.”

Not very romantic, but Jaskier still grinned, biting the inside of his cheek. “Is this, like… a common thing for you?” he asked, unable to help himself. “Like, did you ever…” he trailed off, thinking of Yennefer’s feminine hands wrapping around Geralt’s thick throat. Something sour burned the back of his throat.

A look of understanding flashed in Geralt’s eyes. “No,” he said tersely, genuinely surprising Jaskier.

He nodded, pondering that. “Why not?” he asked and slowly stoked Geralt’s cheeks again. Geralt frowned, shrugging again. “No, no,” he said. “I won’t do it if you don’t answer.”

Maybe he was being cruel, but Jaskier couldn’t help it. What was different?

“I don’t know,” he said finally, a little rough. “I - I didn’t think I could ask her.”

Jaskier nodded slowly, staring, searching his face. “But you feel okay asking me?”

“Yes,” he replied gruffly. “Are you done yet?”

Jaskier felt giddy. He’d always been jealous of Yennefer and it was no secret, to himself, at least, because she’d had Geralt first in every sense of the word but now he, here he was, agreeing to do something she never had. He wouldn’t be Geralt’s first, surely, but it was something.

“Yes,” he replied.

Geralt relaxed after that and turned his head, nuzzling the palm of Jaskier’s hand. Jaskier’s heart squeezed in his chest, entirely pleasant.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked, watching as Geralt kissed the palm of his hand, soft, and licked between his fingers.

Geralt looked at him. “Do it… as you’re riding me,” he said slowly.

Jaskier shivered at the words. “But - but what about - ”

“Shh,” he shushed him and reached over, dragging his bag closer. Jaskier watched curiously as Geralt pulled a small vial out of his bag. Something hot and heavy settled in the pit of his stomach. “Here.”

Jaskier accepted the vial with shaking fingers. “When did you - ”

“Doesn’t matter,” he grunted, leaning back in and kissing him.

Jaskier still wanted to know the answer - it’d been quite a few days since they’d been in town - but he decided he could ask again later. He kissed back and licked messily, quickly into the warm heat of Geralt’s mouth.

Geralt reached up and cupped the back of Jaskier’s neck, squeezing.

Humming contentedly, Jaskier pulled Geralt’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugged. Geralt growled, low in his throat, and the sound went straight to Jaskier’s cock, half-hard between his legs.

Geralt’s hands slipped down between them and bunched Jaskier’s shirt up and out of the way, large fingers spreading out across the soft, freckled skin of Jaskier’s stomach. Jaskier shuddered. His hands were so big that both of them nearly covered his stomach completely.

It was equal parts hot as fuck and terrifying.

Geralt pulled back and pressed their foreheads together, panting. “Off,” he said, and Jaskier grinned.

“Yes, sir,” he purred, because he knew Geralt liked it.

Geralt groaned, predictably, and shuffled back, just far enough to start pulling off his own clothes. Jaskier watched for a moment, appreciating the view, before he began taking off his clothes. He pulled off his shirt first before struggling out of his pants and underclothes.

He tossed them, nearly landed them in the fire, and cursed under his breath.

When he looked back Geralt was staring at him with a smirk. “Shut up,” he huffed, blushing brightly.

Geralt shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind if you had to walk around - ”

Jaskier grabbed him by the face and smashed their lips together before he could finish. Geralt didn’t mind, apparently. He reached down and gripped Jaskier’s hips, squeezing.

“So - so fucking - ” Jaskier gasped against Geralt’s lips, stealing kisses between each word. “ _Hot_.”

Geralt snorted. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“No,” he replied instantly, “and you should know that by now.”

Geralt grinned, but Jaskier sadly only got a split second view of it before he was kissing him again, licking into his mouth and over his teeth. Jaskier was fully hard now, and Geralt was no better.

Geralt was a large man - anyone could see that - and his cock was no exception; the first time Jaskier had seen it hadn’t even been a sexual situation and still he couldn’t help thinking about it what it would feel like inside him, in his mouth.

Jaskier wasn’t shy of his own body, not really, but his cock was comparatively small, nothing worth bragging about.

He pulled back and buried his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, kissing it, sucking, hopefully leaving behind bruises and marks. He wanted others to know Geralt was taken, which - he wasn’t, not really, but specifics didn’t matter when Jaskier was on fire with arousal, thinking and acting on instinct.

Geralt’s hands stroked up and down his back before finally moving lower, cupping Jaskier’s ass, squeezing.

Jaskier groaned and pulled back, eyes dark with lust and longing. “Okay, we - we should - ” he nodded. “Yeah.”

Geralt looked annoyingly smug as he nodded. Jaskier stood up and watched, silently and aching, as Geralt adjusted the blanket and laid down. Jaskier could barely take his eyes off his cock, so, so _big_ and leaking.

He took a shaky breath and only moved again when Geralt said, “okay.”

Despite what Geralt liked to say, he could be very obedient (when he wanted to be). He gulped and sat on Geralt’s thighs, straddling him. Reaching over, he grabbed the oil again and tried opening it but couldn’t, not with his shaking fingers.

He was never nervous during sex, not like this, so Geralt took the vial and held it, staring at him. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said and he was obviously not talking about the sex.

Jaskier never turned down sex. He stared back. “I want to,” he whispered. He wanted to make Geralt feel good, like he always did for him. “I’m just - I know you said I can’t hurt you, but…” he trailed off with a sharp shrug.

Geralt almost looked fond as he reached up and cupped his face. “I swear you won’t - you can’t,” he corrected. “But I do not want to push you to do anything you don’t want to. That’s not how this works.”

“You can be surprisingly sweet during sex,” Jaskier remarked, grinning a bit.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Shut up and tell me what you want to do.”

“I - I want to do this,” he confirmed and saying it made him feel a little more confident. “But you swear, on your life, if you start to feel bad or - or you’re not enjoying it, you’ll make me stop right away.”

Geralt nodded, a serious look on his face. “I will.”

Feeling better, more confident, he accepted the vial back from Geralt. He gripped the wrist of one of Geralt’s hands after opening the vial and poured the oil over his fingers, soaking the witcher’s fingers in the slick liquid.

He probably used too much, but oops.

Afterwards he closed the vial and tossed it, leaning down to peck his lips.

Geralt reached down and poked around for a second before he found Jaskier’s opening, tight from not being used in weeks. “Come here,” he said gruffly and Jaskier leaned down. Geralt kissed him, deep and slow, as he pressed one of his fingers against his opening, waiting for a second, just applying pressure, before slowly pushing.

Jaskier gasped into his mouth as his first finger slipped in. He used more than enough oil that it wasn’t painful at all, just slightly uncomfortable. The discomfort quickly melted away, though, replaced by pure pleasure as Geralt started fucking him with his finger.

He added a second finger and, finally, a third. Jaskier was moaning loudly by the end of it. Geralt knew exactly what he needed to hit, curling his fingers and brushing against his prostate again and again until finally Jaskier had to stop him.

“No, I’ll - I can’t,” he explained and Geralt nodded, looking smug again, the bastard, as he removed his fingers.

Jaskier swallowed thickly and lifted himself up, just enough, for Geralt to grab his cock, holding it. Jaskier slowly lowered himself down onto it, inch by inch, slow. He gasped with each inch, feeling fuller and fuller by the second.

Once he was seated on his cock, he paused, settling. Geralt reached up and grabbed his cock, stroking it.

“Fuck,” Jaskier said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “You’re so fucking _big_.”

Geralt smirked, like a bastard.

Jaskier took another shaky breath. “You - you don’t need the ego boost.”

“But I still like hearing it,” he said, which was - more honest than usual.

Jaskier gulped and swatted his hand away from his cock. “Okay, um. Should I just - ” he reached out for his throat, hand hovering awkwardly in the air, unsure of what to do.

Geralt grunted. “Do it.”

He nodded, curtly, and started riding his cock, slow, before finally wrapping his fingers around Geralt’s beautiful, thick throat. Geralt tilted his head back, exposing his neck fully, and Jaskier’s cock jumped. He didn’t expect to find it so fucking hot, but he did, surprisingly so.

Geralt was always so strong and in control, and right now he wasn’t.

“Harder,” he growled, startling Jaskier out of his thoughts.

He nodded and squeezed a little harder, riding his cock faster. Geralt’s cock was the perfect size and shape for him, rubbing against his prostate with each thrust of his hips. Like he was made for him.

Jaskier stared down at Geralt’s face, watching. He was watching for any sign of discomfort or worse, but Geralt just looked completely out of it in the best of ways, even more than usual. His eyes were closed in bliss and his lips were parted, just barely. Jaskier gulped and squeezed a little harder, fingers digging into the soft skin of Geralt’s throat.

“Geralt,” he said. “Okay?”

Geralt reached up and grabbed his hips, almost bruising, as he slammed up into him again. Jaskier gasped sharply.

“Fuck, okay,” he panted. “M - message received,” he moaned as Geralt’s beautiful, unfair cock brushed against his prostate again, “loud and - and clear.”

He wanted to close his eyes but he couldn’t; he had to keep his eyes on Geralt, just in case. Jaskier squeezed his throat, a little harder, and he heard Geralt’s little gasp for air and quickly let go, pulling his hand back.

“Geralt?” he asked with wide eyes, stilling.

Geralt took a deep breath. “I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

Jaskier hesitated for just a second before he nodded and reached back down, grabbing his throat. He began moving again, riding Geralt’s cock at a slow, even pace. He was getting close, he could feel it in every inch of his body.

“Geralt,” he moaned. “I - I’m - ”

He tightened his grip on Jaskier’s hips, digging his nails into his skin. A silent answer. Jaskier squeezed his neck, hard, and clenched, squeezing around Geralt’s cock and that’s enough to send the witcher tumbling over the edge, spilling deep inside him and that’s, ironically, enough for Jaskier. He gasped, loudly, spilling all over Geralt’s stomach.

Jaskier didn’t know what to do after that. Geralt did, though, he reached up and slowly wrapped his fingers around the wrist of Jaskier’s hand, tugging lightly. Jaskier got the message and let go.

Geralt pulled his hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “You okay?”

Jaskier laughed, high pitched. “I - I should be the one asking _you_ that.”

“Hardly,” he said blandly. “I know that was a first for you.”

Jaskier shrugged and that’s when he noticed the bruises, in the shape of his fingers, already forming on Geralt’s neck. He healed faster than humans, so he wondered briefly how long they’d be there, a call to others that he was taken. Better than hickeys, he thought, weirdly gleeful.

“I - I liked it,” he blurted, meaning it.

Geralt smirked and looked down his soiled stomach. “Really? Couldn’t tell.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes as he rolled off Geralt’s cock, soft but not for long. The bastard. Geralt turned over and Jaskier laid on the blanket, facing him. His eyes kept being drawn back to the marks on his neck.

“You seem… _intrigued_ by it,” Geralt commented after a while.

Jaskier licked his lips. “Maybe, kind of.”

“Hmm,” Geralt sighed and rolled onto his back, closing his eyes. Jaskier scooted closer and laid his head on Geralt’s shoulder, kissing the scarred skin of his shoulder.

Jaskier really was curious, but he was too tired for a conversation like that. Maybe later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder to follow me on twitter @ queermight

For a while, Jaskier didn’t mention anything about it. Until–

“Remember a few weeks ago?” he asked; they were curled up together on a bed at a cheap inn.

Geralt hummed, eyes closed. “How could I forget?” he asked. Sometimes he still thought about it: Jaskier’s fingers, thin and smooth, around his neck.

“Right,” Jaskier replied softly, nuzzling closer. He rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder, kissing the scarred skin lovingly. “Well, I’ve been thinking…”

He trailed off, and Geralt smiled, the barest hint of teeth. “About?” he prompted, though he knew the answer long before Jaskier opened his mouth again.

“Could–could we do it again?” he asked finally.

Geralt opened his eyes. “You want to?” he asked, just to make sure.

Jaskier sat up then, surprising him. “I do,” he said confidently, “but… um, well.” He fidgeted with his hands in his lap and Geralt sat up too, reaching for his hands.

“What is it?” he asked gruffly, squeezing his hands.

Jaskier looked at him with wide eyes. “I–I want you to choke me,” he breathed, a quiet admission and Geralt squeezed his hands tighter.

“What?” he asked in disbelief.

Jaskier squirmed, biting the inside of his cheek. “I–I said–”

“No, no,” Geralt interrupted gruffly, “I heard you, little lark.”

Jaskier smiled. “So?” he prompted, staring into Geralt’s eyes. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem?” Geralt parroted. “Jaskier, you’re human.” He reached up and cupped the side of his neck. “You are–vulnerable,” he said slowly. “If I made one wrong move, you could be…”

Jaskier frowned, leaning into his touch. “Can’t you feel my heartbeat?”

“I–yes,” Geralt answered, a weird look on his face. “But what does that–”

Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s wrist, kissing the palm of his hand. “Then you would know if something was going wrong, right?” he asked. “You would be able to stop before things got too far.”

Geralt frowned, staring at him silently. “Jaskier,” he said finally.

“Listen, listen, okay?” Jaskier held Geralt’s hands. “If you really don’t want to do this, I’ll respect that.” He bit his bottom lip. “But if you’re just doing this because you think you’ll hurt me…”

Geralt shrugged, a sharp, jerky movement and Jaskier had his answer.

“Oh, dear Witcher,” he breathed. “I _trust_ you.”

And that– _that_ was the last straw. Geralt lunged forward, still holding onto Jaskier’s pale, thin neck, and slammed their lips together. It was rough and desperate, and Jaskier moaned.

“Please, Geralt,” he whispered. “I–I want to feel it. I want to feel your hands, so–so strong around my neck.”

Geralt growled, low in his throat, and flipped them over on the bed. Jaskier peered up at him with wide, dark eyes. “We’ll do it,” he said gruffly, “but new rule.”

Jaskier nodded quickly. “Yes, okay, anything.”

Geralt found Jaskier’s hand and moved it, placing it on his own arm. “If at any point it’s too much for you, squeeze my arm and I’ll stop.”

Jaskier nodded again, just as fast. “Yes, okay. Good idea.”

“Okay,” Geralt said, sitting back. “Clothes off,” he commanded gruffly, and Jaskier could never say no to that.

He watched for a second as Geralt pulled his own clothes off, tossing them on the floor. Geralt really was unfairly fit, no doubt as a result of all his training and–“Jaskier,” he growled impatiently and the aforementioned bard startled, grinning sheepishly as he pulled off his own shirt.

Once they were both naked–thank the Gods–Geralt crawled back on top of Jaskier, holding him down with his weight.

“Barely even done anything and you’re already so hard,” he said, low.

Jaskier smiled, biting his bottom lip. “You have that effect on me,” he replied, just as lowly.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied as he reached down, taking Jaskier’s cock in his hand. The bard gasped softly and arched his back–well, _tried_ to. He was firmly held down by Geralt’s weight.

Jaskier whined, tilting his head back as Geralt began stroking him, painfully slow. “Geralt,” he groaned. “Fuck, you’re–you’re _evil_.”

He leaned down and kissed Jaskier’s neck. “Really?” he whispered in his ear. “Perhaps I should stop…” He released Jaskier’s cock “–stop, then, if I’m so evil.”

“No,” he groaned. “Fuck, okay. Po–point made. Now _please_ touch me.”

He could practically hear Geralt’s smirk, the asshole, as he wrapped his fingers around Jaskier’s leaking cock again, squeezing lightly. Jaskier squirmed as Geralt stroked him at a slow, torturous pace, thumbing the tip of his cock.

“Ge–Geralt, fuck, please–I–” Jaskier didn’t even know what he was begging for.

Geralt reached up with his other hand, brushing sweat-slick hair out of Jaskier’s face. “Shh, little lark,” he whispered, low, “the fun is just beginning. Relax.”

Jaskier laughed helplessly. “Fuck, easy for–for _you_ to say.”

Geralt chuckled, low and breathy, as he released Jaskier’s cock and moved off him. Jaskier gasped, sitting up on his elbows.

“And–and _where_ do you think you’re going?” he asked in disbelief.

Geralt smirked as he walked over to Jaskier’s bag and opened it, pulling out a small vial of oil. He swung it back and forth in the air.

“Oh,” Jaskier breathed, smiling. “Oh, okay, right.”

Geralt shook his head, entirely fond, as he walked over and climbed back on top of Jaskier. He cupped his face, stroking his thumb across his cheek. “Are you sure you want to do this, little one?”

And, oh– _that_ was a new one and Jaskier loved it, shivering almost violently.

“Yes,” he breathed.

Geralt nodded and uncapped the vial, pouring oil over his fingers. Jaskier watched with half-lidded eyes, licking his lips. He was always so fond of Geralt’s fingers, long and thick, just like the rest of them.

“Okay,” he said. “Spread your legs for me.”

Jaskier obeyed quickly, spreading his legs. Geralt reached down and pressed a finger against his entrance, pressing lightly. Jaskier sighed as he slowly pushed his finger in.

“Yes, yes,” he gasps, closing his eyes. “Please, Geralt, please.”

Geralt hmmed his acknowledgment, moving his finger, thrusting it in and out. He added a second, scissoring his fingers inside the warm heat of Jaskier.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Geralt, _please_.”

He grunted and added a third finger, working them faster, deeper.

“Sh–shit, I’m not–I’m not gonna last if you–if you don’t hurry the fuck _up_.”

Geralt leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Jaskier’s jaw before pulling back and grabbing his own cock, positioning himself at Jaskier’s entrance. Jaskier grunted as he pushed in, slow.

“Yes, fucking finally,” he moaned once Geralt was halfway inside him, pushing deeper. “Fuck, fuck–”

Geralt growled as he finally bottomed out, all the way inside the bard. “Such a dirty fucking mouth,” he said as he reached up and slowly, gently wrapped his fingers around Jaskier’s neck.

Jaskier gasped, mostly surprised, as he peered up at Geralt, eyes dark with lust.

“Remember,” he said quietly. “Squeeze my arm and I’ll stop.”

Jaskier smiled briefly before he nodded and pushed back against Geralt’s cock with a loud moan.

“Fuck me already,” he pleaded.

Geralt growled again as he started fucking him earnestly, pulling out and slamming back in, again and again. He seemed to remember, only after a few seconds, why they were doing this in the first place.

His fingers tightened around Jaskier’s throat, still light.

Jaskier closed his eyes with a groan, squeezing around Geralt’s cock as he fucked him, fast and deep.

“Little bard,” Geralt grumbled, “so fucking– _tight_.”

Jaskier whimpered, pushing back with each of Geralt’s thrusts. His fingers twitched against the skin of Geralt’s arm with each thrust, but he never squeezed, not even as Geralt’s fingers tightened around his throat, just a little harder.

Geralt focused on his heartbeat, mostly steady except for a few hiccups.

“I’m–I’m–” Jaskier gasped, barely getting the words out.

Geralt leaned down and kissed him, sloppy, hand still tight around his pale, thin throat. Jaskier whined against his lips when they separated. Geralt nipped at his jaw.

“Me too,” he panted. “Go on, little lark,” he said, squeezing tighter. “Come for me.”

Jaskier screamed–well, tried to. It was mostly just a broken cry, spilling all over his stomach, between their bodies. Geralt grunted, low, as he started fucking him faster, losing any of his finesse as he chased his own pleasure.

He spilled deep inside of the bard with an almost pained groan. He released Jaskier’s throat, noticed idly the marks left behind by his fingers.

“Jaskier,” he panted, clearing his throat.

Jaskier was limp, taking deep gulps of air. “St–stupid Witchers and their–their stupid _stamina_ ,” he stammered, but he was grinning. Tired and a little lop-sided, but a grin.

Geralt huffed out a laugh and leaned down, pressing their sweat-slick foreheads together. For a moment, they stayed like that, Geralt softening inside the warm heat of Jaskier’s body.

“Okay–okay, fuck,” Jaskier said eventually. “Out–sensitive.”

Geralt chuckled as he rolled off Jaskier and slipped out of him, settling on the bed. Jaskier rolled over and rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder, eyes closed. Geralt reached up and lightly traced the marks on his neck.

“I–I didn’t mean to–” he started, but Jaskier cut him off:

“I enjoyed it,” he said, reaching up and brushing the back of his fingers against Geralt’s cheek. “Really.”

Geralt nodded, looking uncertain. “Okay,” he said, clearing his throat. “Well, good.”

Jaskier grinned, cheekily, and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> if u enjoy my fics please check out:  
> korrmin.tumblr.com/writing


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